


Salem Center Academy 08 - Sunday

by Metal_Ox137



Series: Salem Center Academy [8]
Category: Marvel (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:44:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metal_Ox137/pseuds/Metal_Ox137
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long estrangement, Illyana reaches out to her old friend, Kitty Pryde.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Salem Center Academy 08 - Sunday

Scene: The Arboretum at the Alkalai Lake Base - Time: Approximately seven months ago

Emma Frost and her middle daughter Irma are sitting in the greenhouse section of the arboretum, methodically planting rows of strawberries. Emma is uncharacteristically dressed in a simple white blouse, jeans and boots. Irma is wearing her school uniform. Emma is overturning the soft earth with a small hand spade.

Irma: We're almost ready for the next batch, mom.

Emma puts down her spade, but Irma touches her mother's shoulder.

Irma: Hang on, I'll get them. 

Irma scampers away to collect another tray of seedlings. Scott Summers enters the greenhouse, casually dressed in sweater and slacks. He regards Emma sitting among the strawberry plants with bemusement. 

Scott: This is new.

Emma: I'm having a hard time believing it myself. 

Scott: Occupational therapy?

Emma: Something like that, yeah.

Scott: You're bothered by what happened on Utopia.

Emma: Bothered isn't the word for it.

Emma wipes her brow with the back of her sleeve.

Emma: We had five telepaths going up against Xorn - five - and it wasn't even a fight. I had the power of three younger versions of myself, plus a Jean Grey, at my fingertips. And it meant nothing. Xorn tore through us like we were tissue paper. I've never been - beaten like that.

Emma sighs, and forces herself to smile, dismissing the pathos of her thoughts. 

Emma: So, this morning I got up, and Irma says, "Come on, mom, let's go plant strawberries." And I just thought - why not? So here we are. 

Scott: Are you okay?

Emma: Yeah. Yeah, I'm good, Scott. Really. No ill after-effects from the fight. [she smiles ruefully] My pride is still smarting, though. 

Scott: Well, I hope you'll be able to recover from that. 

Emma [managing a grin]: I don't know. With me, it could be a mortal wound. 

Irma returns with another tray of strawberry seedlings. 

Irma: Here we go, mom. Good morning, Professor Summers.

Scott: Morning, Irma. Well, it looks like you ladies have the strawberry duties well covered, so I'll let you have at it. [to Emma] Let me know, if there's anything I can do for you. 

Emma: I will, Scott. Thanks. [she frowns suddenly] What's that noise?

The greenhouse glass shatters all around them, as a massive fireball forces its way through the arboretum, consuming everything in its path. Scott and Irma are lost in an instant. Emma has time to try to shift to diamond form - but she isn't quick enough to transmute completely and the extreme heat literally causes her body to fragment, and then explode. Everything is engulfed in white light - 

Phoebe: YYYYAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!

Phoebe Frost sits bolt upright in bed, her face twisted into a grimace of sheer terror. On either side of Phoebe are two of her classmates who are sharing the bed with her - on one side is Phoebe's sister Irma, on the other is fellow classmate and foster sister Eva Bell. Eva props herself up on one elbow, blinking at Phoebe through sleep-swollen eyes. 

Eva: What is it, sweetie? Bad dream?

Phoebe forces herself to look around her. Although the room is quite dark, she is safe at home at the Salem Center Academy, in her own bedroom, surrounded by the two people she loves most in the world. Irma sits up, and pours a small glass of water from the pitcher at the nightstand. She offers it to Phoebe, who is still trembling uncontrollably. Eva sits up and gathers the terrified girl into her arms. 

Eva: Just a nightmare, sweetie. That's all. You're safe with us. 

Phoebe snuggles against Eva and heaves a ragged sigh. After a minute, she takes the water glass offered by her sister. Eva strokes Phoebe's long blonde hair as she drinks, comforting her. Phoebe passes the water glass back. After Irma returns the glass to the nightstand, she reaches for her sister's hand and squeezes it gently. It takes a few minutes, but Phoebe's pounding heart finally slows to its normal rate, and she exhales again, releasing the remaining tension from her night terrors.

Phoebe: Sorry I woke you guys. 

Eva: It's okay, sweetie. We all have bad dreams now and then. 

When Phoebe has calmed enough to let sleepiness take over, she gives Eva one last hug and then snuggles back down into the bed. Eva also lies back down, facing Phoebe and taking one of the girl's hands in her own. Irma rolls over next to Phoebe, protectively draping one arm across her sister's waist. 

Phoebe: Irma?

Irma: I'm just spooning my baby sister.

Phoebe [a little petulantly]: I'm not the baby. 

Irma [hugging her]: Yes, you are. You are my beautiful baby sister, and I love you more than anything on this earth. 

Eva: You are our precious Phoebe, our sweet baby cuckoo.

Phoebe is already feeling the tug of sleep and she drowsily snuggles deeper into her sister's embrace. 

Phoebe: Sorry, you guys.

Irma: Ssh. 'Sokay. Go to sleep.

Eva: And if you need us in your dreams, just call us, and we'll be there.

Phoebe's eyelids flutter closed. 

Phoebe: Mmmkay.

In a few moments time, the girls are once again fast asleep, and their sleep remains unbroken until morning. 

It's Sunday morning at the Salem Center Academy, the one day of the week when all the students are allowed to have the day to themselves, to rest or recreate or do whatever pleases them. As it's also the one day when no one has to be up early, the house is usually quiet well until mid-morning. 

Professor Illyana Rasputin comes down into the kitchen around 10 AM, dressed in white blouse, jeans and closed toe sandals. The only other person up is David Bond, Illyana's oldest student, who also doubles as the school's resident handyman and sometime assistant to the professor. David is dressed in flannel work shirt, tattered jeans and sneakers. He grins at her as she comes in, and offers her a cup of coffee. She takes the mug gratefully.

Illyana: My saviour. 

David [grinning]: Not sure I'd go that far, boss. I'm gonna make a scramble with the leftover bell pepper and onion. Want one?

Illyana: I'd love one. Thanks.

David: So, what's on the schedule for today?

Illyana: Not a thing. It's Sunday. But - I did want to ask you about next week. Our little Aikido presentation kind of got postponed.

David: We did have a busy week. 

Illyana: I was wondering if you wouldn't mind having a go tomorrow morning, after yoga. 

David: Works for me. Do you want to resume combat training tomorrow?

Illyana: Nope.

David [surprised]: No?

Illyana: I need to re-think my whole approach to that part of the training for all of you. Besides, I've wanted to have a class, a proper class, ever since we got here. This is supposed to be a school. It's high time the teacher went to work.

David [taking a carton of eggs from the fridge]: Cut yourself some slack, boss. You've been working way too hard as it is. We'll get there. 

Illyana: You always have a kind word for me, David.

David: I'm just rooting for you, boss. Hell. I'm rooting for all of us. I want this to work as much as anyone. 

Illyana: I don't know what I'd do without you.

David: Well . . . you'd probably have to scramble your own eggs. [he grins] If it's okay with you, I think I'll plan to do the weekly grocery runs on Saturday afternoons, while the other students are misbehaving in town.

Illyana [dismayed]: David, no, no. Saturday afternoon is designated personal time. Please don't fill it up with school errands. 

David: Well, it's either that, or make the run on Sundays. Or sometime during the week. We have a house with five hungry teenagers, boss. Doesn't take much to empty the larders.

Illyana [suppressing a shudder]: Tell me about it. Our grocery bills are horrific. 

David: If I can ask, how are our finances holding out?

Illyana: If we keep going the way we are now, we'll have enough to last us for about two years. Beyond that, I have no idea how we're going to make ends meet. [sighing] Thank God Emma was rich.

David: Well, at least that gives us time to figure something out. It's not like we're going to get tossed onto the street tomorrow. 

He starts adding peppers, onion and ham chunks to the scrambled eggs. 

David: I was thinking, if we ever get settled into a routine, I might take up graphic design again. I used to make decent money with that. 

Illyana: What, you mean, donate any salary you make to the school? David, that's not right. I can't let you do that. 

David: Boss, this isn't just a school - it's my home. And it's probably going to be my home for the foreseeable future. As such, I don't mind investing in it. And besides, aren't you the one who was brought up in a Communist country? Shouldn't you being agreeing with me about collective wealth for the proletariat, and all that?

Illyana [grinning]: That's a slippery slope you're treading there, comrade.

David: I was thinking about taking over the south end of the greenhouse and turning that into a studio. Would you mind? I can't really set up a workspace in my bedroom. 

Illyana: Sounds fine to me. I haven't really made any plans for the greenhouse. 

David: We could actually grow a lot of our own herbs and vegetables in there, boss. Not that we have a lot of time for gardening, but it is an option for us to consider. [he notes Illyana's wistful look] What is it?

Illyana shakes her head, smiling.

Illyana: I was just remembering when I was a little girl. My brother Piotr and I lived on this huge farm outside of Moscow. In the summer, the fields were full of wheat as far as we could see. Piotr used to let me sit on his shoulders, and we'd just stare at this ocean of wheat, waving in the breeze.

David: Sounds pretty awesome.

Illyana: It was amazing. I still miss it. 

David pours the scramble into frypan, listening to the agreeable sizzle of eggs and vegetables on the hot oil. 

David: Do you ever think about going home?

Illyana: What, you mean, back to Russia?

David: Yeah.

Illyana shrugs.

Illyana: Not really. My brother Piotr lives here in America, and anyone I grew up with is here. Apart from the time I spent in Limbo, that is. I have no family left back in Russia. No living relatives, I mean. [sighing] I really need to call Katya.

David: Professor Pryde?

Illyana [nodding]: Now that things have settled down a bit, I need to call and let her and Piotr know that I'm all right. 

David: You haven't talked to them since Dallas?

Illyana [ruefully]: Since before that. I won't say we're exactly estranged, but after I ran off to join Scott Summers and his "outlaw" team, it made things really . . . awkward. Piotr and Katya made it clear they still loved me. But . . . I had chosen a side. And it wasn't theirs. 

David [turning the scramble]: Yikes. Well, then maybe your plan for today should be, whatever else you do, call your big brother and your best friend, and let 'em know you're still alive.

Illyana: Sound advice. I just hope they won't kill me as soon as they hear from me. 

David: You could always try abject groveling. 

He puts bread into the toaster and turns it on. 

David: Although - that tactic never worked for me, actually. 

Illyana grins and sips her coffee. Eva comes into the kitchen, dressed in t-shirt, jeans and sandals. 

Eva: Morning, professor. Morning, David.

David: COO-EEE! The first of the cuckoo birds rears her head. The prof and I are about to share a scramble. Want one? 

Eva: No thanks. I'm just gonna do banana and yogurt. I'd love some toast, though. 

David: I think we can manage that. 

Eva takes a seat next to Illyana.

Illyana [to Eva]: So, what are your plans for your day of rest?

Eva: Actually, professor, I wanted to ask if I could start up a new Sunday task for everyone. 

Illyana: Oh? What did you have in mind?

Eva: We need to start dividing up cleaning chores around here. 

Illyana: We probably could do with some, at that. 

Eva: I thought maybe we could set aside forty-five minutes on Sunday morning, and have everyone grab a vacuum, or a mop, or a duster, and just go through all the common rooms and tidy up. As Phoebe would say, it's getting a little grotty.

Illyana [solemnly sipping her coffee]: I'd have to agree.

Eva: Everyone already does their own laundry, and we share cooking chores -

Illyana: Yes, but you and David do the lion's share of that. 

Eva: It's okay, because the boys are always willing to clean up the dishes afterwards, so I'm willing to call that good - if you are, David.

David: Fine by me. 

Eva: And everyone is responsible for cleaning their own rooms - 

Illyana: I just thank God this place comes with private baths in each room.

Eva: I know, right? We only have the one half bath downstairs, and nobody uses that much. Anyway, if you'll back me up on this, I'll tell everyone we're starting that tradition today. Unless you want to hire maids, that is.

Illyana: I think what you're suggesting is fine. 

David sets a plate with toast and scramble in front of Illyana, and the other slice of toast for Eva. 

Illyana: David, thank you. This looks wonderful. 

David: Nastrovia, ladies.

Eva: Uhh . . . that's not exactly Russian, is it?

Illyana [grinning]: Well . . . it's garbled Russian. 

David joins them at the table and they dig into their breakfasts. 

Eva [to Illyana]: Phoebe's been having nightmares again. 

Illyana: Are you still sleeping with the other girls?

Eva: Yeah. Just for a little while. I don't mind. I'm still feeling kinda traumatized myself. It's nice to have someone to hug you in the middle of the night, when you wake up from a bad dream. 

David [quietly]: They might need counseling, boss. 

Illyana: I've already spoken to a case worker in Salem Center. 

Eva [surprised]: You have?

Illyana: I saw her on Saturday afternoon, while you were at the movies. We're all walking wounded, emotionally. I wanted to be ready to use those services if we need them. Are her nightmares getting worse?

Eva: I don't think so. And she is usually able to go right back to sleep. But maybe you should talk to them, professor. Irma's not having any bad dreams, but I'm pretty sure she's just as torn up inside as Phoebe. She's just better at hiding it. 

Illyana [regarding Eva with concern]: Almost as good as you are?

Eva: I won't lie. I walk around most days feeling like my heart has been ripped out of my chest. But I'm going to be okay, professor, really I am. I miss Professor Summers. I miss Professor Frost, and Benjy. I even miss Celeste. But any time I need anything at all, you guys are always there for me. I feel safe here. I feel loved. You guys are as much my family as my mom is. I think I'll heal faster here than anywhere else. I might need to ask for an extra hug now and then, though. 

Illyana [smiling sadly]: We'll spare as many as you need. 

Eva: There's something else I wanted to ask you, professor. About yesterday. Well, maybe not ask you, just tell you. 

Illyana: I'm listening.

Eva: You seemed really upset when we saw you with Mr. Philinov -

Illyana [sighing]: I'm sorry about that, Eva. I made a mistake - 

Eva: No, no, professor, please. Just listen. When we saw you with him yesterday, and you were laughing and smiling - it made US feel so good. It made us feel like everything's normal. Like - everything's going to be okay. You're allowed to have a boyfriend, professor. You can even bring him home to the school, if you want.

Illyana: Eva, let's not go there, please -

Eva: I just wanted to tell you, when we see you happy, it makes us feel happy too. If you really like this man, don't be afraid to bring him home.

Illyana looks over at David.

David: I have to side with the cuckoos on this one, boss. I might want to bring a girl home some day, and I sure don't want to have to sneak her in and out.

Eva: If you want that part of your life to be private, that's fine, but please, please don't feel you can't have that because of us. We want you to be happy too . . . and please don't be mad at me.

Illyana regards Eva solemnly for a moment. Then she puts her arm around the girl's shoulder, pulls her close, hugging her tightly and gives her a quick kiss on the forehead. 

Illyana: I'm not mad, Eva. I promise. 

She finishes the last of her eggs, then collects her coffee mug. 

Illyana: David, thanks for breakfast.

David: Any time, boss.

Illyana: If you'll both excuse me, I have a phone call to make. 

Illyana runs her hand over Eva's back as she leaves the kitchen. As soon as she is out of sight, Eva leans forward towards David, speaking in an excited whisper.

Eva: Is she gonna call Sergei?

David [taking a swig from his coffee]: I think - she's going to call her brother. 

Illyana walks across the lobby towards her office. In spite of the tightening in her chest, she cannot help but smile at Christopher's ogre drawing tacked to her office door. 

Illyana [murmuring to herself]: I really need to frame this thing. 

She opens the office door, and after taking a deep breath, steps inside and closes the door behind her. 

David and the boys have re-done the office since she last looked inside. The wooden desk has been cleaned and polished, and it shines almost as new. A set of bookshelves has been placed on the north wall, and new curtains have been hung over the east window - and the window glass has been carefully cleaned inside and out. A worn but comfortable leather chair with wheels and tilting seat sits behind the desk. Two smaller upholstered chairs are in the corner. The ancient grey boxy dial telephone sits squatly on the desk, looking for all the world like the carapace of some huge insect. 

Sighing, Illyana seats herself behind the desk - finding the chair surprisingly comfortable. She picks up the receiver, and after a moment of hesitation, dials a number she hasn't used in months - but knows as well as her own name. She hears the line ringing on the other end, and suddenly her heart is pounding. 

Jubilee: Jean Grey School, Jubilee speaking. 

Illyana: Jubilee? Hello. This is - this is Illyana Rasputin. 

There is a brief, shocked pause.

Jubilee: Oh, my GOD! Illyana! You're ALIVE!

Illyana: I sure hope so. May I speak to Katya, please? Or my brother, if he's there?

Jubilee: Yeah! Yeah! Sure! Hang on. [shouting at the top of her lungs] PROFESSOR! . . . It's Illyana!

Illyana closes her eyes, and bites her lower lip. Katherine Pryde picks up, obviously from some other line in the school. 

Kitty: Illyana? Is that you?

Illyana: Privet, Katya. It's me. 

Kitty's voice is choked with emotion.

Kitty: Oh, my God, Illyana! Where ARE you? Are you all right? Are your students okay? We have been frantic with worry - we hadn't heard from you for months - what's going on? Are you okay?

Illyana suddenly finds that great, heavy tears are spilling down her cheeks. 

Illyana: Prosti menya, Katya. I should have called - [choking back a sob] It's so good to hear your voice. 

Kitty: Where are you? Can I come see you? 

Illyana: I would love that.

Kitty: Are you okay? We hadn't heard anything since Dallas - we were so scared something terrible had happened to you - 

Illyana: Something terrible did happen. You heard about Scott and Emma?

Kitty: We did - and when nobody found you, and you didn't call, we were terrified maybe something had happened to you, too. Are the other students still with you? 

Illyana: Sorry - sorry. I can't stop crying. 

Kitty: I'm crying too, roomie. It's okay. 

Illyana: We're safe - we're okay. Six of the students are here with me. David, and Eva, Fabio, Christopher, Irma . . . and Phoebe. 

Kitty: Oh, god. So it's true. I was praying the news reports were wrong. Celeste and Benjamin?

Illyana: They died, Katya. I saw it -

Kitty: Illyana, I want to come see you. And I want to bring your brother. Is that okay?

Illyana: Can you be here yesterday?

Kitty: I'm packing now. Just tell me where I'm going. 

Illyana: Portland. We're near Portland. 

Kitty: As in, Oregon?

Illyana: That's the one.

Kitty: Okay, that I didn't expect.

Illyana: We're in a little town about thirty miles north and east from Portland called Salem Center.

Kitty: They've got a Salem Center in Oregon too?

Illyana: Yeah. And, Katya? You're never going to believe this - I opened a school.

Kitty: You did what? 

Illyana: It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it when you get here. 

The remainder of the call is taken up with logistical details, as Illyana tells Kitty how to find the school, and after the call finally ends, Illyana sits with her face in her hands, weeping softly. After a time, she sighs heavily, wiping her tears away with the palms of her hands. She looks around and finds that the boys have left a box of facial tissue in the office. Gratefully, she uses them to wipe her face. She takes another few deep breaths to compose herself, then gets up from her chair. She can hear all her students talking together in the living room. As she exits her office, Christopher's voice rises in pained complaint.

Christopher: Professor, Eva says we've got to start being our own maid service now?

Eva: Chris, it's not too much to ask to sweep up now and then. This isn't just our school, it's our home. I want to be able to sit on the living room floor without wondering what kind of disgusting gunk I'm sitting on. 

Illyana smiles, and takes Christopher by one arm, Fabio by the other, and hugs them both. 

Illyana: Sorry, boys. It's even worse than that. I need you guys to help get the two empty bedrooms upstairs ready.

David: What's up, boss?

Illyana [grinning]: We're going to have company.


End file.
